CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EVELINA
I had only ever seen Felice’s house once – on the night I was kidnapped by the Falcones. Being back again was like being plunged into a nightmare. Poised at the end of a winding driveway lit up by iron lamps, it was an architectural feat. Unblemished stone climbed across three stories, protruding into the front lawn in a circular balcony supported by a row of Roman columns. The roof was domed. Four black SUVs surrounded the front entrance. His precious bees were around the back somewhere, quiet and hidden in the darkness. I was glad of that, at least.
I had the vaguest sense we might die, but I didn’t mention it to Millie. We held hands as we crossed the driveway. The gravel was crunchy underneath our heels. I remembered that crunch. I had heard it once before, when I had left this place, but that felt like a lifetime ago now, and the bruises had only just begun to fade.
A faint pricking feeling in my eyes made me realize I was crying. I wasn’t even aware of it. The tears felt like rain, born of something outside of myself and far from my immediate awareness.
A crystal chandelier lit up the foyer, and on the ground, the Falcone crest greeted us – a crimson falcon poised for flight. I tried not to stare at it. It brought back too many unpleasant feelings and I was already at capacity. Up ahead, the stairway split, winding towards the second storey in mirroring steps.
The quiet was eerie. Did they know about Calvino? Would Luca or Nic have to tell them? I was conscious of every droplet of his blood on my skin. We climbed the stairs, our heels click-clacking off the marble as we followed the boys up and up. On the second storey, Luca and Nic led us to a room at the very end of a dimly lit hallway. The door was already ajar. Leather couches sat either side of a grand fireplace. The local news was playing on a giant muted TV. The headline was flashing:
ONE DEAD IN EDEN MOB FIGHT.
POLICE ARE ON THE SCENE.
Valentino was in his chair by the fireplace. His attention was trained on the TV, so I could see only the side of his head – close-cropped black hair and a sharp profile. Beside him, squished side by side on the couch, were three boys; the first I recognized as CJ, Calvino’s twelve-year-old son. He was the one who had filmed my torture, thirsty for his dad’s approval. He was staring at a fixed point on the floor. The other two boys were younger than him – no more than nine or ten – with rounder faces and fair hair. They had the same eyes, though, and their mouths bent the same way. Even though there was a yard of space on the other side of them, they had crushed themselves together. They were crying. I wondered where their mother was. I wondered if they had one – or had she, like Evelina, made a run for it while she still could?
‘Wait out here,’ said Nic. ‘We’ll be back.’
He crossed in front of Luca and entered the room. Luca lingered, keeping Millie and me under his attention for a moment longer. His brows lifted and in the silence I realized my teeth were chattering. I unhinged my jaw to stop them.
‘Relax.’ Another beat under that azure gaze. ‘It’s going to be OK.’
I believed him, that’s the strange thing. He was earnest, at least in that moment, and I remembered the last proper words I had spoken to him. He’s broken. You all are. It occurred to me, as I quivered in someone else’s blood, that I had walked myself into danger for the shred of hope I had for an uncle I wished would change but never would, and I realized we were both broken, he and I. We were a couple of fractured lines, running parallel to one another, stuck in families that wouldn’t ever truly let us go. And I was sorry for hurting him.
‘OK,’ I said quietly. Millie didn’t say anything, but I could feel her shaking beside me, trying to hold on to herself. ‘We’ll stay here.’
Luca stalked into the room while Millie and I hovered outside the doorway, teetering alien-like on the edge of something we were caught up in but not a part of.
The brothers crossed the room and rounded the couch. Valentino was still staring at the headline. It had changed:
DONATA MARINO TAKEN INTO CUSTODY.
MORE TO COME.
Luca clapped his hands on the younger boys’ shoulders. ‘Questo è un giorno triste,’ he said softly. His face clouded and for the first time I could see grief creeping to the surface. The boys looked up at him, their eyes shimmering. A moment passed between them and I got the overwhelming sense that to these kids, Luca was someone important. And not just in the Mafia sense.
Nic bent down beside CJ. His voice was hard. ‘We will have our revenge.’
Without lifting his eyes from the floor, CJ nodded.
Luca dragged his brother upright by the back of his neck. ‘Can’t we have one moment of peace, Nicoli?’
‘This is not a time for peace. It’s not what’s best.’
‘And what’s best for Sal and Aldo?’ asked Luca. ‘Sono bambini.’
The youngest boy blinked his big eyes. ‘Me and Sal aren’t babies,’ he said, affronted. ‘We want to talk about revenge.’
I glanced sidelong at Millie, our faces screwing up with matching levels of shock. We had never heard a child talk like that. Not even in movies. It was jarring, and yet in that room just then it seemed so … casual.
Sal didn’t look as convinced as Aldo. His face was blotchy with his tears and his lip was quivering violently.
‘You see?’ said Nic to Luca. ‘This is what’s best.’
Luca shook his head.
Valentino pulled his attention from the news. They were showing footage of the club exterior now. There were fire trucks and ambulances on the scene. Onlookers had gathered around it and the front entrance was cordoned off with police tape.
He turned to his brothers. ‘Can you two stop arguing? I’m trying to find out what happened.’
‘We know what happened,’ said Nic. ‘We were there.’
Valentino rounded on his brothers. He pulled his hands from the wheels of his chair and cracked his knuckles. ‘Oh, you were?’ he asked, his voice acidic. ‘Then maybe you can tell me how you screwed up so spectacularly and managed to get one of our finest members killed in action? Maybe you can tell me how you marched into that club with a contact already on the inside, the element of surprise on your side and five armed assassins, and still somehow failed to kill a sitting duck?’
‘They were armed!’ Nic said. ‘There were too many people in the way and Calvino went back for Jack after we pulled out. What could I do about that?’
‘You could have gone for Donata!’ Valentino snapped. ‘You had them in the palm of your hand and they both got away!’
Nic’s anger rose to match his brother’s. ‘You don’t know what it was like, Valentino. You weren’t there.’
‘It’s not my job to be there! It’s your job!’ Valentino clasped his hands around the arms of his chair and hoisted himself up, balancing on his good leg so he could be closer to Nic. I was surprised by how tall he was. He jabbed his brother’s chest. ‘You said it would work. You cased the place. We put our trust in your intel and it failed. You’ve made me look weak, Nic. Un pazzo incompetente!’
‘You’re not a fool, Valentino.’
‘Tell that to the Marinos!’ he hissed.
Nic lifted his chin and, defiantly, he said, ‘We’re still stronger than them.’
‘Are we?’ Valentino’s voice fell deathly quiet. He bared his teeth, sharp canines ripping into a savage smile with no mirth. ‘What makes you so sure, brother? We don’t know what Jack Gracewell traded for their protection. We don’t know what weapons Donata Marino has.’
He released his stance and slumped back, landing heavily in his chair. It was jarring to witness him so unhinged. Tonight had removed his mask of careful impassivity and it was unsettling for everyone. Aldo’s sobs turned to hiccups. He and Sal were cowering so hard they were sinking into the couch.
Valentino’s shoulders slumped as he looked away from Nic, scowling. ‘Calvino has died and Jack Gracewell walks free still. È una disgrazia.’
‘We did our best,’ said Nic.
Valentino growled at his brother, his features turning feral, the way I had seen Luca’s many times before. ‘It wasn’t good enough, do you understand? Your best wasn’t good enough.’
‘Stop shouting at me!’ Nic replied. He turned to Luca, his expression imploring. ‘Tell him to stop!’
‘Valentino,’ said Luca, calmly. He clasped his twin’s shoulder, and Valentino sat a little straighter, strengthened by the gesture. ‘This isn’t helping. What’s done is done. We need to stick together, not tear ourselves apart.’
It occurred to me that I had never seen the Falcone twins side by side before. On the surface they were so alike – the same bright eyes and stern expressions – but when they spoke, they broke apart. This time it was Luca in command of himself, controlled and practical, as Valentino shook with rage, turning dangerous at the threat of what lay ahead. There was a world of difference between them, but I knew what they were: two halves of one whole. The boss and the underboss, united, in that moment, in their loss.
After a heavy silence, Valentino waved his arm in half-surrender. ‘It is what it is,’ he conceded. ‘We must look forward.’
Millie and I had gotten used to being invisible by now. We had shuffled closer without meaning to, listening with eagerness as they argued back and forth.
It was Aldo who spotted us. Wiping his nose with an overused tissue, he pointed through the doorway. ‘Who are they?’ he asked, tugging at his brother’s sleeve.
Sal cocked his head. ‘I don’t know.’
Aldo’s eyes grew. ‘Is that … is that … blood?’
I looked down at myself. Uh-oh.
Valentino followed Aldo’s gesture, and our eyes met. He dropped his face into his hands, his reaction muffled by his fingers. I was expecting a mild explosion but his response was weary. ‘Luca, why would you bring her in here looking like that?’
CJ lifted his head. He lurched forwards, bending over his knees. I thought he was going to be sick but instead he cradled himself, his fingers clutching at his sides as he stared down at the floor. He was probably smart enough to know it wasn’t my blood.
Luca looked at me sharply and I had the sudden image of him strangling me.
‘Sorry,’ I mouthed, hands raised in supplication. Millie and I backed away, into the semi-darkness of the hallway. We waited with our backs pressed against the wall and our hands squeezed tight while the conversation turned to angry Italian murmurs inside the room.
In the distance, down the marble stairs, we heard the purposeful clacking of heels. At the end of the hallway, coming at us like a bird of prey, was the crisp figure of Elena Genovese-Falcone. Her face was shadowed by the darkness but she glided with purpose, her black dress pooling around her. She was so like Donata and yet the idea of them once playing together as children seemed impossible. She was every bit the Falcone queen, marching through her dark castle. It was hard to decide who was worse between her and Donata, but they both definitely had a seat waiting for them in the pits of hell.
I pulled Millie against the window at the end of the hallway. Part of me wanted to open it and jump out into the garden. I’d take a thousand bees over Lucifer any day.
Elena came to an abrupt stop outside the room. She turned on the heel of her boot and pinned us silently with her eyes. Her lip curled, and in that plummy voice she said, ‘Did I not tell you to stay far away from my sons, girl?’
Millie gulped. I gulped.
She gestured at Millie, one wiry finger tracing her outline. ‘And now it seems you have multiplied.’
I felt an unexpected rush of indignation course through me. ‘I was staying away from them,’ I protested. ‘Maybe you should have told them to stay away from me.’
Millie pinched me. Shut up.
Elena flashed her teeth. ‘You think I didn’t?’
‘W-we d-don’t want to be here,’ said Millie. ‘It wasn’t our choice. We were in Eden when it all kicked off and we got caught up in the … in the hustle. We just want to go home, Mrs Falcone.’
Elena pitched forward and got right in my face. ‘Rubbing shoulders with my sister, were you, little Gracewell?’
I shook my head. ‘Of course not—’
‘Were you laughing about how your father slaughtered my husband?’
‘What? No, I went there to see my uncle—’
‘And what exactly has your uncle bargained with my sister for her protection?’
‘I–I don’t know,’ I stuttered.
‘Really, we don’t,’ Millie added.
‘Drugs? Money?’ she continued, watching us closely for any signs of betrayal on our faces. ‘What does that man have in his diner that would open the gates of my sister’s dynasty?’
My exasperation peaked, and too exhausted to reign in my annoyance, I half-shouted, ‘I don’t know! I don’t know anything about it!’
I blinked and her face was an inch from mine. ‘I think you’re lying.’ Closer still, until Millie was axed from my periphery. ‘I think there are lies in those eyes.’
I blinked hard – to hide the lies? Perhaps that’s what she thought, but the truth was that I was experiencing an overwhelming flurry of rage and I was this close to slapping her right in her face to get her away from me.
‘Secrets,’ she hissed, pulling back from me at last. ‘We all have them. And, girl, I will find yours and when I do, my sons will see you into the next life. If you’re a spy, I will find out.’
‘She’s not,’ interrupted Millie. Elena double-blinked, reminded that there were two of us.
Millie’s words came flooding out. ‘Neither of us are spies, actually. We’re not good at subtlety, to tell you the truth, so if we were you’d have found us out by now. We just want to go home and watch movies and go back to school in a couple of weeks. Please don’t kill us or ask someone to kill us or hurt us. We don’t care about your sister, I didn’t even talk to her at the club, which was really overpriced and kind of creepy, and even though I saw her in the crowds I thought she looked kind of haggard and definitely not as glamorous as you but then again I’m sure she’s like twenty years older than you and you got all the good looks in your family.’
Elena opened her mouth to interrupt, but Millie ploughed on, oblivious, silencing whatever she was about to say.
‘Sophie didn’t even really talk to her either, you see it was Jack she went to see because he gave her a card, but you probably know that because your son stole it which is fine because he was looking for Jack so that’s totally his prerogative, but Sophie only showed up because she thought her uncle was going to apologize and try to make everything right but obviously he didn’t, he made it way worse, which means he’s just totally evil, and we know that now and we’ll never make the mistake of trusting him again, I promise you Mrs Genovese, erm, Falcone, Your Eminence, ma’am. We’re sorry. We’re not spies.’
Millie’s panting filled the silence. Elena’s mouth stretched in a joker-like grin, all teeth and no lips, and something that sounded like a snort of amusement rustled the air between us.
She raised her finger and pointed it at Millie’s forehead, and just when I thought she was about to poke her eye out, she said, ‘You, I like much more than her. You, I believe.’
I watched in silent shock as Elena disappeared into the sitting room, her dress cascading behind her.
‘Holy crap,’ breathed Millie. ‘Holy crap, she’s scary.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, incredulity mixing with fierce gratitude for my best friend. ‘And you managed to disarm her.’
Inside, the Falcones spoke in tones that rose higher and higher.
Elena: ‘Felice has returned.’
Nic: ‘I can do it.’
Luca: ‘No.’
Valentino: ‘It’s not about doing the right thing. It’s about doing the intelligent thing.’
Elena: ‘They’ve broken the truce.’
Valentino: ‘It’s my decision.’
Luca: ‘Don’t worsen the situation, Valentino.’
Valentino: ‘We need to show solidarity in this.’
The conversation dipped to low Italian murmurs.
After a while, Elena left the room with CJ in tow. Her arm was resting along his shoulder, pulling him against her as she strode along the hallway. Luca and Nic emerged next, ashen-faced. Something was definitely wrong. Even more wrong than it already had been.
Luca walked ahead of us. ‘Follow me. You can shower and get cleaned up in here.’
He led us into a bathroom halfway down the corridor. It had a gigantic marble-fitted bathtub and gold faucets. The business of killing really was so lucrative. Nic disappeared into a different room.
‘Where did your mother go with CJ?’ I asked Luca.
He opened a cupboard and dropped two bath towels on to the countertop by the sink. ‘Shower quickly, get dressed and then we’ll take you home. The sooner the better.’
‘Why?’ asked Millie, getting in on the suspicion. ‘What’s happening?
Nic returned with a pile of clothes. He dropped them at our feet. ‘These belong to our cousins. Some of it should fit.’
They shared a glance as they shut the door behind them. Millie and I pressed our ears against it but we couldn’t hear anything. The wood was too thick.
‘What’s happening?’ she asked. ‘Are we in trouble?’
I pressed harder, until it hurt my ear. ‘I don’t know.’
She took out her phone. ‘Should we call the police?’
‘And say what?’ I looked down at my bloodied self. ‘I’d be implicated, Mil. We both would. My mom wouldn’t be able to handle it. It would destroy her. We barely made it through the warehouse.’
‘But we’d be safe,’ she said in a quiet voice. ‘Wouldn’t we?’
‘You mean if we brought a patrol of police cars to the Falcone compound …?’ I trailed off.
‘Right,’ she muttered in agreement. ‘I wonder how long that would last.’
We showered quickly, first Millie then me. We towel-dried our hair and got dressed. I squeezed into a pair of black jeans and a T-shirt that was a size too small for me. The tennis shoes were too small, too, but I crammed my feet into them until the ends of my toes curled and chafed.
We unlocked the door and emerged to the distant sound of screaming.
Luca was sitting on the ground, his knees pulled up against his chest. He shot to his feet. ‘Are you ready?’ Clipped tone, shoulders tense.
‘What the hell is going on?’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ He slipped behind us and ushered us downstairs, his hand against my back, pushing, insistent, as we descended the marble stairs. Nic was lingering by the open door, his gaze flickering back and forth to the other end of the foyer. Luca guided us towards the entrance and the darkness beyond it. We were being herded.
Another shriek reverberated in the air. It was louder down here – it was coming from somewhere at the back of the house. It had to be Sara, but it all felt so devastatingly familiar, like I was listening to a distant memory of myself, screaming just as she was, begging for my life.
What Sara said at Eden was right. She was me, and not in a good way.
I rounded on the Falcones. ‘So this is what you do? You bring defenceless girls here and torture them?’
I moved backwards, towards the screams, but Nic pulled me into him, clamping me to his side. ‘Sophie, don’t,’ he urged, keeping his voice low. ‘We’re taking you home.’
Millie tugged at my arm. ‘Can we just go home, Sophie?’ She was crying again, the last dregs of her mascara smudging beneath her eyes. God, she was ruined, and it was my fault. She wouldn’t sleep again for a long time. But how could she walk away so easily? How could she stomach the guilt of leaving someone behind like that? She didn’t know what was happening. She didn’t know what was in store for Sara. But I did. Sara didn’t deserve this. She was good.
‘We can’t just leave her here!’ My teeth were chattering again. When did it get so cold? The dampness in my hair was chilling me.
Luca was stony-faced, but his jaw was tight. Nic was calm, feet planted firmly beside me, ready for the exit strategy, ready to deposit the potential snitches far away from the crime currently taking place.
Another ear-splitting shriek rang out.
I shook Nic off and pushed by Luca. He tried to block me but I shoved him away. He stumbled, caught off guard, and without formulating any semblance of a plan, I started sprinting towards the noise.